


Beauty is fragile

by No_Nikolas



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Kindred is just mentioned, idk i felt high af writing this, shoutout to leeroy for proof reading it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 15:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14751381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/No_Nikolas/pseuds/No_Nikolas
Summary: Beauty was used to describe many things, one of those being death.





	Beauty is fragile

**Author's Note:**

> Idk a different kind of writing style i guess   
> i just tried something different for once

‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’

 

Something the Virtuose could never get behind, how was it that people could believe such foolish words? They did him wrong, beauty shouldn't be such a rarely used term. It was in everything after all, not just what people chose to call beautiful. Beauty was in many thing and came in several ways, such as Art, life and most importantly. Death. 

 

His art, of course, was death. A kind of art only few could get behind, it wasn't something he had picked up for the money, as some expected, but for the  _ beauty  _ and feelings that the release of death offered. 

 

Dissolution had a wide and grateful kind of variety when it came to beauty. Backstories as well as the current moment matters, just like what was to come. After all, a piece without context is worth next to nothing. 

 

The tale of star crossed lovers for example  holds such power in the act of demise, it adds that certain something, it makes everything more tragic, it makes things  _ feel _ better. 

 

But not every story had to revolve around love and a dramatic endings, sometimes destruction and loss had other, more dynamic choices of action, as well as grief and envy. 

 

Sins were human nature, lust, gluttony, envy, sloth and so on; things everyone is guilty of atleast once in their life time. The Virtuose himself was no exception, he simply couldn't deny it. 

 

Still, beauty in death shouldn't be as feared and underrated as beauty in life. Life was short and boring for the most part, a waste of time to instruct and play out. But Death. 

 

Oblivion was much more fragile, there was only always one attempt at instructing it. Then it was over, missing a step or your balanced in the most important moments could be fatal. One mess up and the show is over sooner than the crowd wishes it to be. 

 

A quite unpleasant feeling for the Virtuose. 

 

But nobody could help him. 

 

The show would be over to soon, his instructions were wrong and he had lost his balanced, a cruel mistake that was easily taking advantage of.

 

There was no choice but to end the show, even if it had to be his last. Against his will. 

 

One, two, three, four, two, two three, four

 

Silence had struck the audience, a relieving feeling of ecstasy and bliss running through the Virtuose. 

 

His last show, a dance with death. 

 

It hadn't been a slow dance from the start, the thrilling feeling of adrenaline building up in his veins ever so slowly until the point of his heart beat pounding away loudly in his ears. His mind fogged by the bliss of his art, having taking him completely off guard when it, quite literally,  _ backfired.  _

 

A muffled shot and metal hitting the floor. 

 

Drip. 

 

Drip. 

 

There it was, his finale, the moment everyone had been waiting for the entire time. 

 

No words were exchanged, but actions spoke louder than words anyway. He knew from experience as an artist afterall. 

 

And now, the curtain rises. 

 

Coughing, a smile found its way on his crimson stained lips, his death was indeed the finale. Just not instructed clearly, the only thing he had wished for. 

 

His beauty had faded, as so did his attempts at regaining it. 

 

His only beauty left now was to wait for the feeling of cold death. 

 

Either arrows or a wolf's jaw. 

 

But seeing from his position on the floor, staring up at the fading lights against the ceiling, if could only be one choice. 

 

Lambs arrows, for he had no way to change the inevitable. 

 

Neither did he wish to change it, death had always lingered around him. One way or another, so wanting to change what was to come would be foolish. It was a tragedy to end up quitting the show this early, but one could not choose their destination, nor the time of their end. 

 

All he could do is wait. 

 

Wait until his last breath had left him and his heart would stop beating a perfect, steady rhythm. 

 

His mind fogged with memories, both good and bad, everything he could possibly think of covered his vision, making him close his eyes. 

 

He tried to drown out the muffled sounds of screams, agony and panic that he kept hearing, nothing but background noises. 

 

A peaceful death was all he had wished for.

 

Sadly, wishes didn't always came true as one would hope. 

 

This was no exception. 


End file.
